


Part of That World

by imaginary_golux



Series: Fractured Fairy Tales [6]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Merpeople, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7273879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Handsome duke's son Poe Dameron is out sailing when a storm comes up and wrecks his boat; he wakes up on shore, and from there I think we know how this story goes.</p>
<p>Inspired in part by a kinkmeme prompt.</p>
<p>Beta by my Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Poe wakes up on the beach. Given that his last memory is of a particularly nasty gust of wind taking the entire mast of his little boat over the side, the stays pulling the boat over sideways after it, this is actually something of a relief. Poe had pretty much resigned himself to the idea that the sudden summer storm was going to deprive his parents of their only son, and is immensely grateful to find that this is not the case.

He sits up, dusting some of the sand and salt from his clothes, and blinks. There is someone watching him from the water, his hands folded atop a rock outcropping and his chin resting tidily on his hands. He’s lovely, dark-skinned and big-eyed and handsome as hell from what Poe can see, and he’s also inexplicably in the water instead of, say, on the beach. Poe blinks at him for a while, then, rather tentatively, waves.

The man in the water waves back, mouth curving in a lovely white grin.

“Hi!” Poe calls. He’s not sure what else to say. His working hypothesis is that the man in the water is somehow responsible for the fact that Poe is alive on a beach and not dead under the ocean, but given that he can’t see any boats around, he’s not sure how the man in the water managed that, if in fact he did - and why is the possibly-rescuer all the way over there, anyhow?

But the man in the water lets go of the rock and vanishes behind it, and Poe scrambles to his feet and runs forward to the edge of the water, because what if he’s hurt, what if he was hurt _saving Poe_ , what if he was clinging to that rock for dear life - and the man surfaces again maybe three yards offshore just as a particularly adventurous wave slops over the top of Poe’s boots.

Poe stops, ankle-deep in water, and blinks. The man is half-out of the water, shirtless and really quite astonishingly gorgeous; but the important thing is that he’s out of the water to his waist in what Poe is almost entirely certain is at least ten feet of water.

“...What the fuck,” Poe says, somewhat inelegantly. What, he’s just been almost drowned and now an ungodly handsome man is apparently treading water strongly enough to display his really quite remarkable abs while grinning broadly at Poe. There’s something a little strange about the man’s teeth, and also his hands, but Poe’s a little overwhelmed by all the _other_ strange things, and can’t pay too much attention to that right now.

“Um. Hi,” says the strange man.

“Hi,” says Poe weakly. “I’m Poe Dameron.”

“I’m _something completely unpronounceable_ ,” says the strange man. Poe attempts to work his mouth around the sounds the man made, gives up, and shrugs helplessly. The unpronounceable man chuckles. It’s a _lovely_ sound.

“Can I call you something else?” Poe asks, a little desperately. “Maybe - uh -” and he would have come up with something good, he really would, but at just that moment _something_ breaks the water surface behind the man and Poe’s mouth says, without any input from his brain, “Fin!”

“Finn?” says the beautiful man. “Sure, I like that.”

“Uh,” says Poe. That was...entirely not what he meant. He had meant to point out the _enormous purple fish fin_ which had briefly broken the surface. But the guy doesn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that there’s a _giant fish_ right next to him - oh gods, maybe he’s _riding_ the giant fish, maybe he’s some sort of minor sea deity with a piscine steed - and so Poe just...rolls with it. “Did you rescue me?” he asks, instead of trying to bring up the giant fish.

“Um,” says Finn, rubbing the back of his neck a little sheepishly. “Yeah? Your little boat kind of...sank right on top of me, and I don’t think leggies can breathe water - you didn’t _look_ like you could breathe water - so I kind of brought you to shore. Was that right?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Poe says. “That was...kind of exactly right. Thank you. Thank you _so much_. I owe you...well, I owe you my life, honestly.” Then his mind catches up with his mouth and he adds, “Leggies? What are leggies?”

“People with legs,” the beautiful man says.

“...As opposed to…?” says Poe.

And Finn rises a little farther out of the water, just enough that Poe can see where beautiful dark skin turns into deep purple scales.

Poe just stares for a while. Finn kind of bobs a bit, like he’s not sure if he wants to stick around or run - _swim_ \- away. Finally Poe clears his throat and says, “So, merpeople are real.”

“Yeah,” Finn says.

“Huh,” says Poe. “The more you know. Sorry for sinking my boat right on top of you.”

“Honestly, I wasn’t supposed to be that near the surface,” Finn says, shrugging. “ _Incredibly unintelligible name_ said I was too young to understand the dangers. She didn’t mention the possibility of random sinking boats, though.”

“That doesn’t actually happen very often,” Poe says. “Uh - d’you mind if I sit down?”

“Go ahead,” Finn says, and glides in until he’s only about three feet from shore, coiling his tail up under him and bobbing gently as the waves wash over him. Poe backs up onto the dry sand, then glances around and spots a largish flat rock right on the edge of the water. On the other side of the rock, to his great pleasure, is a small burbling stream, and Poe drinks about half a gallon of fresh water and then settles down on the rock, regarding his savior with frank curiosity. Finn is looking back at him with just as much interest.

Finn’s pearly white teeth are sharply pointed, almost shark-like; apparently merpeople are carnivorous, then. His hands have deep purple webbing between the fingers, and short sharp claws in place of nails. His tail is about twice as long as his upper body, with scales of a deep and gorgeous purple, and a wide fin at the end half a shade lighter. His hair is dark and shaved close to his head. He has faint lines on his neck which Poe thinks might be gill slits, and his eyes are dark and wide and very lovely.

Poe himself is by no means at his best: he is waterlogged and salt-crusted, and his loose orange pants are starting to chafe a bit, and his hair gives a new definition to ‘wind-blown.’ But Finn doesn’t seem to mind.

“How do they work?” Finn asks after a few minutes.

“How do what work?”

“Legs.”

Poe blinks, then shrugs and leans down to pull his boots off. Finn stares. “You can _take off_ your legs?”

“What - no!” says Poe, grinning. “These are boots. They’re to protect my feet from sharp rocks and so on.” He pulls off his sodden socks, too, and wiggles his newly-freed toes in delight. “ _These_ are my feet.”

Finn drifts a little closer, until he’s actually close enough that Poe could reach out and touch him if he dared. He seems fascinated by Poe’s feet. “Can I...touch?” he asks tentatively.

“Yeah, sure,” says Poe. Finn’s webbed hands are gentle as he explores Poe’s feet, tugging the toes gently apart and marveling as Poe flexes and points them. “They’re so small,” he says wonderingly. “And you can move around on them!”

Poe glances down at Finn’s fin, which is as broad as Finn’s shoulders and nearly as long as his torso. “I guess we don’t need quite as much surface area as you do,” he says. “Could I…?”

“Huh? Oh, sure,” Finn says, and flips his tail around so that the fin is nearly in Poe’s lap. Poe runs careful fingers over it. It’s smooth and cool and stronger than it looks. The scales of Finn’s tail are slightly sharp along their edges; Poe is very careful to stroke them the right way.

Finn runs one finger up the underside of Poe’s foot, and Poe jumps. “Ticklish!” he says.

“Ticklish?” Finn asks.

“...Merpeople aren’t ticklish,” Poe sighs. “Lucky bugger - you get to breathe water _and_ you don’t have to deal with tiny, evil cousins.”

“There are sharks,” Finn offers.

“...Okay, that sounds unpleasant,” Poe admits.

“Does the rest of your not-skin come off?” Finn inquires, tugging curiously at Poe’s damp pants hem.

“It’s clothes, and yes, it does,” says Poe, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of his head asking if he’s _really_ stripping in front of the handsome merman, and pulls off his tunic and his pants, leaving him in nothing but undershorts. Finn makes an intrigued noise.

“They only bend in a few places,” he says, reaching out to trace Poe’s left knee. Poe bends his knee and straightens it helpfully. “Isn’t that inconvenient?”

“Well, we kind of need our legs to keep us upright more than anything else,” Poe explains. “If they were bendy all over like your tail, we’d fall over all the time.”

“Ooooh,” says Finn. “That makes sense!” Poe grins and nods and tries to ignore the fact that Finn’s hands are wandering ever higher on his legs. This is probably a bad time to be aroused. Who knows how merpeople have sex? Does Poe _want_ to know how merpeople have sex? I mean, yes, absurdly handsome merman who apparently saved Poe’s life, Poe has gone to bed with less attractive people for worse reasons, but still. _Merman_. How’s that going to work?

Finn crosses his arms on Poe’s knees and rests his chin on them, torso nestled comfortably between Poe’s shins. “So why do you go out in little boats, if you can’t breathe water or swim very well?”

“I _can_ swim, just not when I’ve been knocked over the head,” Poe objects. “And we go out in little boats so we can stay _above_ the water, and usually whether we can breathe it or not really doesn’t come up.” He sighs. “And, okay, I went out by myself, which was stupid, because there are eight dozen cousins visiting and I needed to get out before I said something _really_ undiplomatic.”

Finn chuckles. “Honestly, I was up where I shouldn’t have been because the entire _pod_ is having a get-together and there’s just...too many people, and all of them want to give me advice. I’m one of the youngest adults, I haven’t even earned any shells yet; they all think they have really great advice for me, and it’s all different, and my head started hurting.”

Poe raises an eyebrow. “Shells?”

“Shells, for my tail - rank markers, you know.”

“Oh,” says Poe. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

Finn shrugs, his tail doing a little flip behind him as he does so. “Pain is part of life. That’s what _unintelligible_ says, anyhow. And she’s got _fifteen_ shells, so she’d know. That’s more than anyone but the _different unintelligible noise_.”

“I see,” Poe says.

“Why didn’t you take off all your weird not-skin?” Finn asks.

Poe is briefly speechless. “Um. It’s...I guess merpeople wouldn’t really have body modesty, would they?”

“Huh?” asks Finn, looking adorably puzzled.

“Humans keep their genital areas covered, usually,” Poe explains.

“Aren’t your genitals retractable?” Finn asks.

“Um,” says Poe faintly. “No. That’s...I mean, women have internal...wow, I’m actually having this conversation. This may be the oddest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Finn chuckles. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. An hour ago I didn’t even know merpeople were _real_.” Poe thinks a moment. “Wait - your genitals are _retractable_?” And then, a little worriedly, “Are you male?”

Finn laughs again. It’s a very nice laugh. “Yes, I’m male. Are you?”

“Yes,” Poe says, grimacing down at the proof.

“Oh good!”

“...Oh?”

“Males aren’t allowed to have recreational sex with females,” Finn explains. “Too much chance of pups, and we can only feed so many, you know.”

“...Are we headed towards recreational sex?” Poe asks, not sure whether to be pleased or terrified. Certain parts of him are pleased, at any rate.

“I hope so?” says Finn.

“Oh,” says Poe, and gives Finn his very best grin. “Well then. By all means, carry on.”

“So the not-skin isn’t actually _attached_ , right?” Finn checks.

“Nope,” Poe confirms.

Finn reaches out, carefully, and slides one clawed finger under the waistband of Poe’s undershorts. The fabric parts like butter. Those claws must be _sharp_. Poe should probably not be turned on by that.

...Oh, who is he kidding, this whole day is like a really weird, really good fantasy. Okay, one where he’s been shipwrecked, but Poe has had dreams like this. Admittedly the astonishingly attractive _merman_ is nothing he’s ever managed to come up with for himself, but he’s had dreams of being rescued before. And of rescuing people. Equal-opportunity rescuer and rescue-ee, that’s Poe.

“Huh,” says Finn, looking Poe over as the shreds of the undershorts fall away. “Wow, that’s different. Neat!”

“Yeah?” says Poe. “Hang on - back up a bit. I’ll come down there; you probably don’t want to be out of the water too long, yeah?”

“Oh, good thought,” says Finn, and drifts back away from the rock; Poe scrambles down, trying not to gash himself on anything sharp, and settles on his knees in the water, flinching a little at the chill. Finn surges forward, graceful in his element, and Poe can’t quite help reaching out to catch and touch him - the broad chest, the strong arms, the elegant transition from dark skin to shining scales.

Then he looks down, and his eyes get wide. “Wow,” he says faintly. “You...when you say retractable genitals, you aren’t kidding around.”

Finn grins. “What did you _think_ it would look like?”

“I was honestly not sure,” Poe admits. “Huh. That’s not _that_ different.”

Finn looks down at his own hands, at the sharp claw on the tip of his fingers. “You’d better show me how humans do this,” he says. “I don’t think your skin is as thick as mine, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Fair,” Poe agrees, and shuffles forward, only flinching a little when another wave washes over his legs, and gathers them both up in one hand. Finn hisses softly and braces both hands on Poe’s shoulders, claws carefully held out of the way.

“Tell me how your people do this,” Poe says as he strokes.

“We’d be underwater,” Finn says, swaying into Poe’s grip. “We’d sort of - coil around each other. Our tails, you know. And just...rub. No hands. Claws are bad on sensitive bits.”

Poe laughs breathlessly. “You don’t say,” he gasps. He spreads his legs a little more, so he’s balanced more solidly on his knees, and strokes harder; with his free hand he reaches up to pull Finn down and kiss him, softly and carefully. Finn makes a very startled noise into his mouth.

“Oh,” he says when they break apart. “What’s _that_?”

“Kissing,” says Poe. “I guess it’s a human thing?”

“I _like_ it,” says Finn, and leans in again.

Poe comes with Finn’s sharp teeth nipping very gently at his lips and Finn’s hands braced firmly on his shoulders and Finn’s rather astonishing cock pressed up against his, and the cold waves lapping at his thighs. Finn follows him a moment later, moaning into Poe’s mouth so eagerly that Poe wishes he could get hard again so soon.

Finn picks Poe up when he sags in sudden exhaustion, arousal no longer giving him extra strength, and puts him back on the flat rock, as effortlessly as though Poe were a child. “I have to go,” Finn says. “ _Unintelligible_ will miss me soon. But - could I see you again?”

“Yes,” says Poe, reaching out to put a hand on Finn’s cheek. “Yes! I - do you know where the Dameron dukedom is?”

“Up there?” Finn says with a cheeky grin, pointing up from the beach. Poe slews around on the rock and looks, and yep, there’s his parents’ castle, just visible on a hill.

“Awesome,” he says sincerely. “Well then. I’ll come down to this beach whenever I can get time; if you’re free too we can meet up.”

“Good,” says Finn, and kisses him, and is gone.

Poe lies there in the sun for a while before he gets up and finds his clothes - the ones that aren’t shredded, anyhow - and stuffs his feet back into his waterlogged boots and goes slogging up the beach to find a path.

*

They meet four times over the next three months. It’s rare for them both to have enough time to get to the beach, enough time to have a decent chat - let alone anything more than a chat - once they’re there. But those chats, few and far between as they are, are some of the most pleasant hours Poe has spent that aren’t sailing; and when they cannot meet, they leave shells or little gifts on the flat rock to show they’ve been there and they still remember.

“It sounds very...regimented down there,” he says to Finn on one of their precious afternoons, sprawled out on his flat rock with Finn leaning against its seaward edge. “I would have thought the ocean would be more...free for all.”

Finn grimaces. “It...used to be, I think,” he says. “Way before I was born. We’re told stories about that time, when we’re pups. How the pups starved, sometimes, because too many were born. How we used to fight among ourselves, and the sharks would take winner and loser alike when we bled in the water. But sometimes I think we might have gone a little too far the other way. You talk about people getting together out of love - we don’t do that. Not permanently.”

“What do you do instead?” Poe asks, sickly curious.

“We have recreational sex,” Finn says. “And once we’ve proven that our blood is worth perpetuating, we’re allowed to have procreative sex during the breeding season.” He shrugs. “I haven’t done anything special yet, so that’s a ways in the future yet for me, if it ever happens. But Supreme Leader _unintelligible_ doesn’t like it if we have recreational sex with the same person too often - says bonds between warriors damage the bond to the tribe as a whole.”

“That sounds...lonely,” Poe says softly.

“It sort of is,” Finn says. “I didn’t know how lonely until I met you, though. There’s no one there I can talk to like this.”

“It’s selfish of me,” Poe says, “but I wish you could come on land. I’d love to introduce you to my parents, and I think you’d like it here.”

Finn grins. “I think I’d like it too,” he says. And then there’s a noise out to sea, and Poe raises his head to see an enormous merwoman with short-cropped pale hair and a remarkable collection of scars _loom_ up out of the water. “ _Unintelligible,_ ” she snaps. Finn goes stiff with fear, then slews around to look at her. She scowls and gestures for him to follow, and Finn does, without even a backwards glance.

And then he does not come back. Poe visits the beach nearly every day, for months and months, and there is no sign of Finn - not even a shell left on the flat rock to say that Finn had been there and gone again.

Five meetings, a bare acquaintanceship - Poe should not feel as though his heart has been ripped from his chest. But he keeps visiting the beach, leaves little wooden tokens on the flat stone, and tries not to weep when they only pile up as the weeks go by. There is no beautiful merman coming to visit. Perhaps there never will be again.


	2. Chapter 2

Finn listens obediently to the lectures from Captain Phasma and General Hux and Supreme Leader Snoke as they scold him for striking up a friendship with a human - for betraying the tribe. He bows his head and swears to be good henceforth, accepts his punishment duty with visible contrition. He works hard, clearing the space in the coral ring where the mothers will give birth when the time comes, hauling net after net of coral fragments out of the way and scattering them to the four currents, taking the scratches and bruises the task inflicts without complaint. After a week or so of this, his watchers decide that he has clearly been sufficiently chastised, and begin to lower their guard. After two weeks, he spots his chance.

He swims like hell.

His destination is in a part of the ocean where the Supreme Leader’s tribe do not go; he knows the way by rumor and hearsay, and navigates by whale-call and the taste of the current until at last he comes to the massive castle of the Sea Trader, Maz. It’s said she’ll sell anything - absolutely anything - and that her prices are fair.

She’s tiny and orange, and Finn suspects her sharp little teeth have poison in them. There’s no other explanation for how so small an octopus-mer has lived so long or gained such a reputation.

“I would like to be human,” he tells her. “I wish to go to the Dameron dukedom. My true love lives there.”

“Hmmmm,” says Maz. “I can give you legs, and take your gills and your sharp teeth and claws to give you blunt human teeth and nails. Walking will hurt like shells underfoot, of course, because it’ll all be tender new skin.”

“I can take pain,” Finn says.

“Then my price is this: a year and a day you’ll labor for me, and do as I tell you; and at the end of that time I’ll give you legs and send you to your true love’s land, if you’re still sure you want to go,” Maz says.

Finn flinches. A year and a day - Poe will think he’s abandoned him, or been slain, or half a dozen other horrible scenarios. But the price _is_ fair.

“Done,” he says.

“Done,” she replies cheerfully, and hands him a spear. “I like tuna,” she says. “Go and get me some.”

“Yes, Maz,” says Finn, and gets to work.

*

Maz is not cruel, but she works Finn hard. He spends long days out hunting: tuna, mahi, shark, even krill, because Maz believes in having something available to feed whoever comes to visit her. He digs clams and spends hours levering barnacles off of sea-washed rocks. When he’s not hunting, he’s tidying Maz’s enormous, baffling collection of things that she has found or been given as payment for services rendered: everything from coins to weapons to pearls the size of Finn’s head to inscribed tablets in languages he cannot read, and half a hundred other kinds of things besides. “You never know when something will come in handy,” Maz says cheerfully when he asks what all of it is _for_.

Maz is surprisingly popular. Finn’s former commanders had definitely implied that she was a figure of fear and horror to the other denizens of the sea, but there’s usually at least one visitor a day, maybe two, who come to bring her trinkets and ask for advice, or offer to pay her anything for whatever service they so desperately need. Finn even sees a kraken come to visit - he hides far back in her maze of a castle, because hell no, he’s not fighting a kraken - bringing with it, as payment, the entire picked-clean skeleton of a whale, neatly wired back together with strands of seaweed.

Finn has a very hard time getting _that_ into one of the treasure halls, but he manages it.

The months go by surprisingly quickly. He’s usually working too hard - or too exhausted from working hard - to think too much about Poe. But sometimes when he’s found his alcove for the night he can’t help staring into the darkness and wondering if Poe has forgotten about him - or decided that Finn has abandoned him. A year and a day is a long time, and Poe is heir to a dukedom - presumably he has things to do that aren’t pining over one random merman, regardless of the friendship - the maybe more than friendship - they had begun to build.

In lighter moments, he knows that Poe will not have forgotten him. But still. A year and a day is a _very_ long time.

*

“Today is the end of our contract,” Maz informs him one morning. Finn grins at her. He knows - he’s been keeping _very_ careful track, with a little bit of coral to scratch a mark for every day on the inside of his sleeping alcove. “Are you sure you wish to become human?”

“I’m sure,” Finn says.

“It’s going to hurt like nothing else,” Maz warns him. “And humans are notoriously fickle. Your true love may easily have chosen another.”

“I’m sure,” Finn says.

“Every step you take for the first few months is going to feel like stepping on broken shells,” Maz warns him. “You’re going to be clumsy and uncomfortable and you won’t be able to swim away from trouble.”

“I’m sure,” Finn says.

“Thrice said is meant,” Maz sighs. “Very well.”

Finn doesn’t like to think about what happens next. It hurts, and it hurts for a long time.

*

Finn wakes up on a beach with a sword lying next to him. He recognizes the beach - knows it well - though he’s never seen it from the sand before. He looks down at himself, admiring his new blunt nails, the straight lines of his new legs so unlike the curves of his tail, the stubby little toes on his feet. He tries flexing them, pointing them, as Poe used to do when Finn wanted to see how legs worked. They move easily enough.

Getting to his feet, though, is genuinely unpleasant. The skin on his new legs is very tender, and when he puts weight on them - on his knees, as he rolls over, on his feet as he stands - it hurts like there are shell-shards being driven into the skin. Maz warned him about this, and she did not exaggerate. It’s...really, really not fun.

Finn uses the sword as a crutch as he staggers over to the flat rock Poe always sits on and collapses onto it, next to a little heap of wooden figurines. He stares at them, then blinks back tears. Poe has been coming here. Poe has been leaving these, as Finn would have left shells if he could, to say that he has been here - has been waiting. There are dozens of them. Some of them have fallen off the rock, and Finn suspects more have washed away in high seas. He picks up one of them, a tiny wooden merman, and clasps it tightly. Poe remembers him. The year of labor, the pain of the new legs - they are all worth it.

But now he has to get up to the ducal castle. Finn remembers Poe saying that humans cover their non-retractable genitals, and also remembers that Poe had a place on the beach where he stashed his clothes and also sometimes things he called towels to dry him off - and now that Finn is human, with salt drying uncomfortably on his skin, he understands why. Finn staggers towards the little hidden stash, and to his delight there is a rather sandy towel in it. He shakes the towel out and ties it a little awkwardly around his hips. Well, it covers his newly non-retractable genitals, anyhow.

He turns his attention to the little path up the hill towards the castle - towards Poe. It’s steep and there are stones in it, and this is going to hurt so much - just standing hurts - but it will be worth it to find Poe.

He takes a step, and then another, and the pain is like daggers, and Finn sets his jaw and refuses to fall down.

He has to use the sword to keep him upright for most of it, and also has to sit down on convenient rocks by the side of the path three times before he makes it to the top, and then he has to stop again and stare. He’s never seen a town before - merfolk don’t have them - and this is...baffling. There are so many people! So many _children_! And they move so fast! One of the children goes barreling by and nearly knocks Finn over; he braces himself against a wall and just watches the chaos for a while. He’s getting odd looks from the adults, though, and he thinks he knows why: all of these people are wearing clothing which covers them from neck to knee, at least, and here’s Finn with his inexpertly knotted towel and a long sword in his hand, its point braced in the dirt of the road.

Finally one of them approaches him, rather tentatively. A man, he thinks, with a piece of pale cloth over his clothing which is covered in white dust. “Can we help you?” the man inquires.

“I...need to see Poe Dameron,” Finn says. “He lives up there, right?” He points at the castle.

“...Yes,” says the man. “I was going to be taking my wagon up there in a few minutes, actually. Would you like to ride along?”

“ _Please_ ,” says Finn, because ‘ride along’ doesn’t sound like ‘walk,’ and Finn has walked about as much as he thinks he can just now. He’d keep going if it was the only way to get to Poe, but he’s glad it isn’t.

The wagon is pulled by a very large thing, bigger than a dolphin, with four legs and what looks like very hard feet at the end of them. Finn eyes it dubiously. It ignores him. That’s probably good. The wagon is also hard wood and not easy to ride - it bumps through the ruts on the road ruthlessly - but it’s better than walking.

The man is apparently bringing bread up to the castle in preparation for some sort of party. Finn is fascinated by the smell of the fresh bread. He’s honestly never smelled anything so lovely. Bread is not something that merfolk eat, after all. The man sees him sniffing happily, and hands him a small loaf with a crooked smile. “Here - this one’s not quite good enough for the duke.”

Finn takes a bite and moans with pleasure. The man grins properly. “Good, eh?”

“So good,” says Finn indistinctly. “This is the best thing I have ever eaten.”

“Huh,” says the man cheerfully. “Well, that’s good to hear.” He pulls the wagon-beast to a halt at the kitchen door to the castle, and a woman in another over-cloth comes hurrying out to meet them.

“ _There_ you are,” she says. “Thank the gods!”

“Sorry - picked up a passenger,” the man replies. “He says he needs to see the young lord.”

The woman looks Finn up and down. “And who might you be, then?”

Finn climbs down off the wagon, wincing as his feet hit the ground, and nods respectfully to her. “My name is Finn, ma’am.”

She startles. “Finn?”

“Yes,” Finn says, a little surprised by her reaction.

“...Come in,” she says. “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Finn says, and limps into the kitchen behind her.

She sends him off with a younger woman, also in that odd over-cloth - Poe never wore one, so Finn has no idea what it might be for - who brings him to a room full of big vats of water and chivvies him into one. It’s warm and fresh, and does take the salt off his skin nicely - and it’s very nice to be off his feet for a little while, in a medium which makes _sense_. When he clambers out, the young woman has clothing for him, undershorts and trousers and a tunic like Poe wears, though no over-cloth. Finn has to think a bit to get it all on, but he’s seen Poe get dressed and undressed, and it’s reasonably easy to figure out.

“Are you _really_ Finn?” the young woman asks.

“I am, yes,” Finn says as he wriggles inelegantly into the tunic. “Why?”

“Oh - it’s just that there’s this rumor, you know,” the young woman says, her cheeks going pink. “That the young lord is in love with someone named Finn, and won’t hear of any other partner.”

Finn gulps. Oh, thank the gods. If that’s true - oh, let that be true!

“Come on, then,” the young woman says, and hands him a pair of soft foot-coverings - not boots, but smaller and less stiff. Finn puts them on. They’re rather nicer on his feet than the cold stone floor has been, though it _still_ hurts like shellshards to walk. She also hands him a belt with a sword-shaped cone thing attached to it, and after a moment’s confusion he figures out that the sword’s blade goes into the cone-thing and the belt goes around his waist. He’s a little sad to not have his crutch any longer, but it’s probably not good for the sword to be used like that.

“This way,” she says, and leads him through the corridors of the castle to a half-open door. Finn can hear people talking inside.

“Mother, I know this is important, but -” Poe says, sounding weary.

“It’s more than important,” a woman’s voice replies. “We’re not getting any younger, Poe, and we need the succession confirmed. I know you have strong feelings for this mysterious man of yours, but you’ve said yourself that you haven’t seen him for a year and more. I just want you to be open to the _possibility_ that one of the guests tonight might be someone you could love.”

“I won’t hate them all on sight,” Poe says, “but…”

The young woman knocks on the door. “My Lords, my Lady,” she calls quietly. “There is someone here to see Lord Poe.”

The door swings open in Poe’s hand, and he glances down at the young woman with a crooked smile, then looks past her, meets Finn’s eyes, and staggers, catching himself on the doorframe and staring. “Holy... _gods_ ,” he says quietly. “ _Finn_?”

“Poe,” says Finn happily, and Poe lunges out of the room around the young woman and gathers Finn up in a tight and desperate embrace.

“Finn, you’re _here_ \- how are you here - my gods, you have _legs_ ,” Poe says.

“Wait, why wouldn’t he have legs?” says a man’s voice behind Poe.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” Finn says, wrapping Poe up in his arms and clinging back just as hard. “It was the price for my legs - I had to work for Maz a year and a day. And...um...can we sit down? It’s just, they’re very new and it kind of hurts to stand.”

“Of course!” says Poe instantly, and tugs Finn into the room, pushing him down onto a _very_ soft seat which is wide enough for two, and sitting down beside him with an arm around his waist as though he can’t bear to let go. Finn puts an arm around Poe’s waist in turn, because yeah - now that he’s found Poe again, he’s not going to let go either.

“Mom, Dad, this is Finn,” Poe says, and Finn looks the other two people in the room over carefully. They look like Poe - well, that makes sense. The woman has Poe’s big beautiful eyes and his always-tousled hair; the man has Poe’s broad shoulders and sweet grin.

“So you’re the mysterious Finn,” he says. “I’m Kes Dameron; this is my wife Shara Bey.”

“Pleased to meet you...er...my lord?” Finn says.

“Likewise,” says Kes. “Now, what was this about legs?”

“Er,” says Finn. “I was a merman until about...er...this morning, sir.”

Kes gives Poe a _look_. Poe flushes.

“So that day I said I’d been rescued by a random fisherman,” Poe says a little awkwardly. “I might have been rescued by a merman instead.” He shrugs at Finn. “I didn’t know if your people wanted humans to know about them, so I kind of…”

“Said fisherman instead of fish-man?” Finn says cheerfully. “Thanks, actually; we’re _not_ supposed to let humans know about us. I was just really curious.”

Kes and Shara are both blinking at them. “Merpeople are real,” says Shara eventually. “Of course my reckless son manages to fall in love with an actual merman.” She grins at Finn. “And of course he manages to convince that merman to find a way to become human to join him! Someday my son will stop astonishing me, but today is not that day.”

“He didn’t ask me to become human, actually,” Finn says. “I chose to do that myself.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to give up your beautiful _tail_ ,” says Poe, scandalized.

“Honestly,” Finn says, grinning at his beloved, “apart from the fact that walking _hurts_ \- and Maz said that would wear off with time and practice - this is already _so much better_. You have _bread_. Bread is _wonderful_.”

“...Huh,” says Poe. “Yeah, I guess you guys wouldn’t bake things much, down under the water. What _did_ you eat?”

“Raw fish,” says Finn. “Seaweed. Clams and oysters and barnacles. More raw fish.”

“...I am going to have the cooks make you _so much food_ ,” says Poe faintly.

Kes holds up a hand. “Before we go and find out what else Finn has never eaten,” he says, “there’s the matter of tonight’s ball.”

“Dad,” says Poe firmly, “I am not going to choose anyone but Finn.”

Finn blinks at them both. “Choose?”

Shara sighs. “The original purpose of this ball was to let Poe choose a spouse,” she says. “We were assuming that would be a woman, so that we could have grandchildren.” Poe goes very stiff and still beside Finn. “But I am not so cruel as to deny my son his heart’s desire, and Poe has many cousins,” Shara says with a soft smile. “And I am going to assume that the fact that you have somehow won yourself legs and found your way to my son’s side means that you love him as dearly as he loves you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” says Finn, in safe water at last. “But - ah - I’m very sorry, I don’t know how human relationships work.”

“I’ll explain,” Poe says hastily.

“Very good,” says Kes. “But we still need a new reason for this ball - something no one can dispute.” He looks at Finn solemnly. “Which leads me to my next question: Finn, where did you get that sword?”

Finn looks down at it. “Maz gave it to me just before she sent me up,” he says; the memory is slightly hazy from the pain, but clear enough. “She said it belonged to the humans and since I was going above water anyhow, I might as well bring it back to them.”

“May I see it?” asks Kes.

Finn unbuckles the belt a little clumsily and hands the whole contraption over. Kes looks the sword hilt over carefully, then draws it smoothly and examines the blade just under the hilt.

“Well,” he says, with great satisfaction in his voice. “This should make for a very good excuse for a party - and since you brought it to us, Finn, I think there will be no complaints about you marrying our son.”

“Is that…?” says Poe in tones of hushed awe.

“It is,” Kes says. “The sword of our kingdom, which chooses the rightful heir, returned to us at last.” He gives Finn a sort of seated bow. “Thank you, Finn.”

“Er,” says Finn. “You’re very welcome?”

“This will bring great joy to our queen, Leia the Wise,” Shara says. “And hers has been a lifetime filled with sorrow. She is our dear friend; it is on her behalf, as well as our own, that we thank you.” She smiles. “And now, before we overwhelm you - Poe, I think you had better take your beloved off and find him some rooms. _Not_ your own rooms, dear; we must preserve at least the appearance of propriety.”

Poe flushes again. “Yes, Mother,” he says sheepishly. “But I think our first stop had better be the carpenter.”

“The carpenter?” Finn asks in mild confusion.

“Yep,” Poe says, pulling him to his feet and catching Finn when he stumbles a little. “We’re going to go see if he can make a wheeled chair of some sort so you can rest your brand-new feet.”

“That’s _brilliant_ ,” says Finn delightedly. “Lead on!”


	3. Chapter 3

Poe is baffled and awed by the story Finn relates: of a year and a day’s service to a sea witch, of pain beyond comprehension, all for the hope that Poe would wait, would be as devoted to Finn as Finn is to him. It’s a truly humbling display of trust and love and unquestionable devotion, and Poe vows to spend the rest of his life showing Finn in every way possible _exactly_ how much he reciprocates. And yet Finn seems to see nothing particularly special about his deeds. “I just did what needed doing,” he says, shrugging, as the carpenter measures him and takes careful notes.

“You are a marvel,” Poe tells him quite sincerely. The carpenter muffles what Poe suspects is a cooing sound at Poe’s sappiness. Oh well. Poe’s beloved _is_ a marvel, and Poe doesn’t mind saying so in front of anyone at all.

“So what’s a ball, anyhow?” Finn asks as they wait for the carpenter to put the wheeled chair together, the two of them sitting on a bench outside the workshop in the sun.

“Big party, lots of dancing,” Poe says. “I’ll show you how to dance - something slow to start with. Something easy. And then you can sit down again.”

“Looking after me,” Finn says, grinning over at Poe. “I _can_ judge my own limits.”

“Buddy, you walked up a cliff trail on brand-new legs,” Poe points out.

“...Fair. But you were at the top,” Finn replies.

The carpenter, emerging just in time to hear that, makes a soft _d’aww_ sound. She’s pushing a neatly-assembled little wheeled carriage, with cushions stuffed into it; Poe gives Finn a hand up from the bench and the carpenter holds the chair steady while Finn gets comfortable.

“Wow,” says Finn. “Thank you! This is great.” He sets his hands to the wheels and goes shooting off down the corridor. Poe gives the carpenter an apologetic look and goes jogging off after his beloved, the carpenter’s chuckles echoing behind him.

*

“I can loan you some clothing,” Poe says once they find Finn a room - two corridors away from Poe’s own room, as his parents specified. “Usually people dress up for parties like this.”

“...Some clothing is fancier than others?” Finn inquires.

“Oh yeah,” Poe says, laughing. “Come on to my rooms - I’ll show you what _I_ have to wear.”

“Race you,” Finn says, grinning back, and sends his wheeled chair rocketing down the hall. Poe chases him, calling, “Not fair!” at his swiftly retreating back.

*

Choosing clothes for Finn is vastly amusing. He’s broader in the shoulders than Poe is, but about the same height, so most of Poe’s trousers fit him well enough. For the tunic, Poe digs in the back of his closet for a gift from an aunt who had high hopes that Poe would take after a long-ago ancestor and end up being enormously tall; the clothing she sends him is beautifully embroidered but far too large in every dimension. With a belt, the nicest tunic fits Finn quite well.

...Finn decked out in white linen with purple embroidery, seated on the side of Poe’s bed and grinning down at Poe as Poe finishes tugging his trouser legs straight, is unfairly tempting. Poe sits back on his heels. “If we didn’t have to be at the banquet in less than an hour,” he says hoarsely, “I’d take advantage of the bed you’re on.”

“Oh!” says Finn, delightedly. “Is this a bed, then? That’s what humans sleep on, right? It’s so squishy!”

Poe covers his face with one hand and giggles helplessly. “Teaching you how to be human is going to be _fascinating_ ,” he says. “Yes, humans sleep on beds. And sit in chairs. And wear ridiculous clothing.”

“What are the over-cloths that the man with the bread and the kitchen woman and the woman who brought me to you were wearing?” Finn asks.

“Uh,” says Poe, blinking. “Aprons. They protect your clothing from splashes or dust or what have you.”

“It seems a little complicated,” Finn sighs. “You have to wear clothing to cover your weird non-retractable genitals, and then you have to wear an apron to cover your clothing...couldn’t you just wear the apron?”

Poe’s brain helpfully supplies him with the mental image of Finn in nothing but an apron and a smile. Sweet gods. “It’s...just how we do things,” he says weakly, moving to sit next to Finn on the bed. “We don’t always make sense.”

Finn laughs. “Well, neither do the sea-folk,” he says easily. “And I don’t mind learning. Clothes are kind of fun, actually.” He nudges a shoulder against Poe’s. “You said you’d show me what you have to wear!”

“Oh gods,” says Poe, but he digs the ridiculous outfit out of his closet anyway.

*

Poe can see the curiosity - friendly and less so - on the faces of pretty much everyone at the banquet when he sits down with Finn at his right hand in the place of honor. There should by rights be an _empty_ seat there, signifying the purpose of this get-together. That Finn is there is a declaration as clear as a shout that Poe has chosen him - and no one here but Poe’s own parents even knows who Finn _is_.

Poe’s father takes his place at the head of the table, drawing all eyes effortlessly. Poe is trying to learn to have the sort of _presence_ his father does, but he’s more the ‘charm people in person’ than the ‘cause awe at a distance’ type. Perhaps it’s because his father was an infantry officer in the last war, while Poe’s mother was captain of one of the small raiding ships. Poe takes more after his mother in that.

“My friends,” Kes says, his voice echoing through the hall. “Today is a day for rejoicing.”

This is not the speech he had originally planned to give, which Poe has overheard him practicing several times over the past week. But Kes is good at improvisation; that’s what kept him alive in the war.

“I present to you all my son’s chosen consort,” Kes continues, and Poe sees the sudden stiff backs and wide eyes among the audience. “I give you Finn of the Sea, who has labored through many trials and tasks for the love of our son and returned to our kingdom, at last, the Sword of the Crown.” Shara stands, lifting the sword from where she has been holding it under the table, and the sudden gasp of indrawn breath from everyone in the audience is enough to make the whole hall echo.

Poe grins to himself. Kes is making it sound like Finn deliberately brought the ancient magical artifact back to them - instead of using it as a crutch, entirely innocent of its true nature. Poe should honestly be taking notes: _this_ is how you manipulate a crowd.

“Such devotion,” Kes says firmly, “must be rewarded; and so it is our honor and our pleasure to welcome to our family such a hero as Finn of the Sea has proven himself to be.”

The audience applauds. There’s really nothing else they can do. Poe thinks Finn might be blushing - it’s hard to tell with Finn’s dark skin - but he holds his head high and smiles at the people staring at him.

When Kes sits down, the room dissolves into chatter: the Sword is returned! Poe has chosen a consort! The Sword is returned! Poe nudges his shoulder against Finn’s. “So, that should keep everyone talking for the next few weeks.”

The young woman across the table from them laughs, clapping a hand to her heart in mock dismay. “Oh, Poe, you’ve left me weeping!” she says merrily. “And for so long I’d dreamed of your hand…” She gives a little fake sob, and winks at Finn.

Poe sighs. “Finn, this is my dearest friend and one of the best steerswomen in the world, Jessika Pava. I call her Testor, for she tests my patience so frequently. Jess, my consort-to-be, Finn.”

Jess stretches a hand across the table, and Finn takes it with a broad smile. “Poe’s told me about you,” he says. “Did you _really_ hide tadpoles in his boots?”

“Only once,” says Jess cheerfully. “...Every so often. He hasn’t told me _anything_ about you, except how dreadfully wonderful you are.”

Finn laughs. Poe scrubs a palm over his face and sighs. “Oh gods, you two get along,” he says mournfully. “I’m _doomed_.”

“Doomed to marry the handsomest man _I_ ever saw,” Jess says, giving Finn a very appraising look.

“Poe’s the handsomest man in the world,” Finn says stoutly. Jess laughs.

“Poe, you don’t deserve him,” she says, and then, to Finn, “Did he ever tell you about the time we ran away to sea?”

“No - tell me!” says Finn eagerly, and Jess launches into the tale. Poe remembers it rather differently than she tells it, of course, but she’s a good storyteller and Finn seems vastly amused, so Poe sighs and busies himself making sure that the best cuts of everything the servants bring out end up on Finn’s plate.

And then Poe pretty much forgets to eat, because watching Finn discover human food is better than the finest banquet in the whole world.

Finn thinks bread is wonderful - well, the local baker makes very good bread, Poe must admit, though he swears to himself that he’ll take Finn someday to the place in the capital that does the incredible sweet rolls with butter and sugar. Finn actually _moans_ at the taste of roast pork with baked apples and cinnamon. He goes into tiny raptures over the little pear-and-goat-cheese salad between courses. And at the end of the meal he makes positively _obscene_ noises when he sips at the tiny mug of expensive imported chocolate.

Poe, who couldn’t tell you what he himself had eaten if you _paid_ him, shifts in his chair and wishes he were in private so he could adjust his suddenly too-tight pants. Jess keeps giving him little smirking looks, because she knows _exactly_ how much trouble he’s having and is amused by it, drat the woman. But he would cheerfully suffer through many times this embarrassment for the pleasure of watching Finn’s joy.

After dinner, as promised, there is dancing, and Poe finds himself dragged onto the dance floor by Jessika, and then it’s only polite for him to partner one or two of the men and women who came here in the hopes of snagging themselves a duke’s son, and before he realizes it the night is half over. He looks over at Finn, and is deeply relieved to find that Finn is sitting between Shara and Jess, a broad grin on his lovely face, watching Poe dance with stars in his eyes.

The band strikes up a particularly slow song just then, and Poe takes that as a sign from the gods, crosses the floor to offer a hand to his consort-to-be. Finn takes his hand and stands, wavering for just a moment, and follows him out onto the dance floor. Their dance looks a whole lot like swaying in place with their arms around each other, because Finn doesn’t know how to waltz and Poe doesn’t want to stress his beloved’s brand-new legs, but standing there with Finn warm in his arms, close enough to smell the faint ocean-and-musk which is will now and forever mean _Finn_ to Poe, swaying gently to the music and smiling into Finn’s eyes - Poe could not be happier. Well, okay, if they were alone in a bedroom and naked, Poe might be happier - but for being in public, well, this is just about perfect.

He escorts Finn back to his chair when the song is over, bows him into it so elaborately that Finn bursts into delighted laughter, and takes a seat of his own, glad to be off his feet for a little while. Finn beams at him.

“Dancing looks like fun,” he says cheerfully. “You’ll have to teach me, once I’ve got the strength.”

“Gladly,” Poe says, grinning back. “It’s wonderful fun, if you do it right. But sort of exhausting.”

“You look good doing it,” Finn tells him, and Poe flushes, but can’t help grinning even more widely. Jessika shakes her head and gets up, patting Finn on the shoulder.

“Right, so, if you two are going to be sickeningly adorable to each other, _I’m_ finding a dance partner,” she says, but there’s no real bite to her words, and she gives Poe a bright smile and a wink as she leaves. Poe grins back at her, and then turns his attention to his beloved. He’s been sociable enough for one night, and Finn’s been patient; Poe’s not leaving his side again.

*

The wedding of a duke’s son takes a long time to prepare, and indeed Poe and Finn’s wedding should probably be put off until after they’ve brought the Sword of the Crown to the Queen, but a handfasting does not take _nearly_ as much preparation or pomp and circumstance, and Poe’s parents are not so cruel as to make Poe wait _months_ to marry his true love.

So it is that three days after Finn woke up on the beach which his new legs, Poe and Finn stand in front of a small gathering - Poe’s family and close friends, no one else - and Poe takes his beloved’s hand in his and says, solemnly, “I, Poe Dameron, take thee, Finn of the Sea, to be my wedded husband, till death do us depart, and thereto I plight my troth.” The words are old, and they taste strange and sweet in Poe’s mouth.

Finn’s smile is brighter than the sun. “I, Finn of the Sea, take thee, Poe Dameron, to be my wedded husband, till death do us depart, and thereto I plight my troth,” he says, and Poe leans in and kisses that beautiful smile.

*

Once they’re handfasted, thank all the gods, there are no propriety issues in their sharing a bedchamber, and Poe doesn’t even mind the way Jess keeps giving him amused looks all through the celebratory dinner, because yes, he’s ridiculously excited at the prospect of finally, _finally_ having his beloved in his bed, and he’s not ashamed of that at all. Poe’s ring is gleaming on Finn’s lovely hand, and Finn’s ring is bright on Poe’s, and they are handfaste in the sight of gods and men, and he is going to take his beloved to bed and show him how humans have sex, and it’s going to be _wonderful_.

The dinner isn’t interminable, because Poe _does_ love his parents and his friends, but when his mother rises on his father’s arm, declaring the meal officially over, Poe does have to keep himself from cheering. He offers Finn his arm, instead, and Finn laughs at him and takes it, and Poe leads his beloved - his handfasted fiance - up to his room, ignoring the laughter of his friends with immense dignity and only a little blushing.

Finn sits down on the bed as soon as they make it into Poe’s rooms - he’s been getting stronger every day, but he still winces every time he takes a step, his new skin painfully tender, and Poe is sort if in awe of how Finn can be so damn sweet and cheerful when Poe _knows_ he’s in pain. Poe has to stop and just _look_ at Finn for a moment, marvel at how godsdamned lucky he is to have won the heart of such an amazing man, and Finn grins up at him and holds out his arms. Poe steps into his embrace instantly, kisses Finn long and slow and sweet. Finn, it has swiftly become apparent, _loves_ kisses, loves not having to worry about hurting Poe with his newly blunt human teeth, and he learns terrifyingly fast. They’ve only had a few opportunities to kiss, and already he can make Poe’s head spin with lips and teeth and agile tongue.

“So,” says Poe, once he’s been kissed breathless and managed to catch his breath again, “we don’t actually have to have sex tonight, if you’re not ready for that.”

“You are very sweet, and if you don’t show me how humans have sex I will be very annoyed,” Finn says, smiling up at Poe. “As long as it doesn’t involve standing up for long periods of time, anyhow.”

“No,” Poe says, unable to stop grinning, and tumbles onto the bed with Finn, rolling them over into the middle and kissing his beloved thoroughly. “Sex while standing up is sort of an advanced version.”

“So give me the beginner’s lesson,” Finn says, laughing. “Something merfolk don’t do.”

“Something merfolk don’t do,” Poe says slowly. “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”

Working together, they manage to peel Finn out of his clothing, and then Finn lies back and laughs as Poe wriggles out of his own clothes, and then they are skin-on-skin against each other, warm and delightful, and Finn makes a low, pleased noise and arches against him.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” Poe says, and rolls them over to pin Finn very gently to the bed, kisses his way down Finn’s throat and detours along his collarbones and down over his gorgeous chest. Finn’s legs may be new, but his upper body has retained all the definition developed in two decades of swimming all day, every day, and frankly Poe would not be surprised if Finn literally picked him up one of these days. But not today. Today Finn has his hands tangled in Poe’s hair and is making small, astonished, delighted noises at each new sensation, and Poe wants to keep making him sound like that for as long as possible.

Merfolk, if Poe remembers correctly, don’t use their mouths during sex. Well, merfolk have a lot of very sharp teeth, so honestly oral sex would probably end up being bloody and painful rather than wonderful. But _Poe_ has nice, blunt, human teeth, and he’s going to take advantage of that. He leans down, catching Finn’s eyes and winking mischievously, and licks a broad stripe up Finn’s lovely cock. Finn gasps and arches up against Poe’s hands, so Poe does it again, and again, and then he loses his patience entirely and just swallows Finn down, lips stretched wide around Finn’s lovely bulk - turning human did not diminish the generosity of Finn’s endowment - and hums smugly when Finn yanks inadvertently on his hair and _shouts_ with pleasure.

Finn comes very quickly, which Poe takes as a testament to his own skill and also the fact that Finn has never had anyone suck him off before, and hauls Poe up by main strength to kiss the taste of his own pleasure out of Poe’s mouth. “Wow,” Finn says after a while. “Yeah, that’s something merfolk don’t do.”

Poe laughs. “Good. I want to show you _everything_ , dear heart.”

“Well, you can start by showing me _you_ ,” Finn says, and rolls Poe over onto his back, props himself up on one arm and looks Poe over thoughtfully. “I couldn’t touch properly, before,” he says, “but I don’t have claws now.” And he puts one broad hand on the center of Poe’s chest.

Poe arches up against it with a frankly embarrassing noise, and Finn smiles smugly. “Your skin is so soft,” he says, sounding almost awed, and strokes gently over Poe’s chest, toys curiously with the strip of hair under Poe’s navel. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Poe says, more than a little distracted by the long, slow motions of Finn’s warm hand. Finn discovers, in swift succession, the sensitivity of Poe’s nipples and the fact that Poe’s ribs are ticklish and the fact that the easiest way to turn Poe into a moaning, happy puddle is to wrap a hand around Poe’s cock and stroke long and easy and torturously slow. That last appears to entertain Finn a great deal, and Poe twists his hands in the sheets and shudders in pleasure and bites his lip so he won’t beg.

“Let me hear you,” Finn says, brushing his lips against Poe’s, and Poe whimpers and obeys, an incoherent litany of ‘please’ and ‘more’ and ‘gods, Finn, so good’ pouring from his mouth. Finn kisses the words from his lips, keeps up his slow and steady pace until Poe’s nearly sobbing with it, and finally - _finally_ \- leans down and takes Poe’s mouth in a deep and devouring kiss and twists his wrist _just so_ and Poe comes with a muffled, incoherent moan that echoes off the walls.

“I am going to want to do that a _lot_ ,” Finn says, once Poe has gotten his breath back. “That was gorgeous.”

“No complaints here,” Poe says faintly. “Gods, how I love you.”

Finn laughs. “Just Finn, no gods here,” he teases gently. “And I love you too.”

Poe rolls over and gathers his handfasted beloved into his arms and kisses him as sweetly as he knows how, and they fall asleep like that, warm and safe and utterly contented.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr, imaginarygolux.tumblr.com. Come on by!
> 
> Also, now there is marvelous [fanart](http://topographical-map-of-utah.tumblr.com/post/146646446609/imaginarygolux-wrote-a-fic-where-finn-was-a) by topographical-map-of-utah.


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